Pictures of Houses
by moreawake
Summary: A series of random vignettes about Addison and Archer Montgomery as children. // 1 - Four year-old Archer meets his new baby sister. // 2 - Archer comes to the rescue after Bizzy forgets to turn on Addison's nightlight. // 3 - Addison falls off her bike
1. Nice to Meet You

**Disclaimer**: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

* * *

**Nice to Meet You  
**

He doesn't understand why all of the adults are talking about the new baby as if there is something wrong with her—as far as he can tell, his sister seems perfect.

"_The doctor said that she'll grow out of it_," he overheard his mother tell a few visiting friends. "_No one in either of our families is overweight, so he insisted that she wouldn't be either, but I worry because Archie was so tiny, while this one was so big that I needed a Caesarean," _she sighed. _"I mean, she isn't hideously large, but at nearly nine pounds, she isn't exactly a dainty little doll-like thing either, and with that red hair of hers... Goodness knows where it came from, but it's going to make her stick out like a sore thumb when she is around other children, so I just hope that the poor child doesn't end up being fat, too._"

Personally, four year-old Archer likes the baby's red hair. It's different from anything he has seen before in his short, very sheltered life, and he kind of wants to reach into her bassinet and touch it. It's sparse on her head, but it looks soft. As for her size, Archer has never seen a smaller person. Her little hands make his own look large, and he is pretty sure he could pick her up all by himself if he tried. She is anything but big.

And while his mother is concerned with the baby's physical appearance, his father seems to be disappointed by the fact that his youngest child is not a second son.

"_There hasn't been a daughter born into the Montgomery family in the last five generations, so the possibility of her being a girl seemed so extremely slim that we didn't even consider it,_" he watched his father say into the telephone in the kitchen, obvious discontentment in his voice. "_It's certainly going to take some time to adjust. I expected to call my _son_ 'Addison,' not my daughter, you know? It's a strong, masculine name._"

Archer doesn't mind a sister. He expected a little brother, but it didn't faze him much at all when his parents walked through the front door with a pink bundle instead of a blue one. He rarely sees other children and spends the majority of his time with a nanny in a big lonely house, so any company at all is welcome. He has only known her for a few hours, but already, her presence makes him feel less alone. From now on, he will always have someone else.

She has been sleeping for a while, and really, he is supposed to be napping, too, but his curiosity led him into the pale blue nautical-themed nursery. Too short to see into her bassinet, he used all his strength to push and pull an upholstered chair over from the corner of the room so that he could climb up and properly watch her. He now sits on the armrest, completely fascinated by his new sibling.

At first, she makes no sound, but after a few minutes, she begins to stretch in her sleep, her tiny fists opening and closing near her face. When she yawns, she makes a soft noise, and when she finishes, her deep blue eyes slowly flutter open.

"Hi," he greets warmly, watching as her arms and legs make short, uncoordinated movements.

The baby blinks in response, her eyelids still heavy. Archer offers her his biggest smile, and though he knows he probably shouldn't touch her, for fear she might cry, he suddenly can't help himself.

Carefully, he shifts his weight so that he can slowly lean over and grasp her hand, but just as he is about to reach her, a voice comes from the open doorway behind him and nearly startles him enough to fall over.

"Archie! What did we say about standing on chairs?" His nanny, Margaret, scolds gently as she strides over to tend to the baby. "And what are you doing out of bed?"

He quickly sits back on the arm of the chair, hoping that if he is obedient, he can avoid a time-out.

"I just wanted to look," he explains innocently. "And I can't see her that good without the chair."

Margaret throws a soft blue blanket over her shoulder and then lifts the baby into her arms, cooing to the little girl softly. For a moment, Archer feels forgotten, but before he can even begin to feel jealous of his sister, Margaret turns to him.

"If we sit down on the floor, you can see her."

He nods eagerly and climbs off the chair, seating himself cross-legged on the plush carpet next to his nanny and sister. He hasn't been this close to the baby before, and he looks up at Margaret for permission to touch.

"Wow," he murmurs in awe as he runs a hand over the baby's little arm. He is amazed at the softness of her pink skin and at how she doesn't seem to mind his presence.

"What do you think?" Margaret asks.

"She's really small," he observes, now lightly running his fingers over the little girl's rosy cheek. He can't believe that it's possible for someone to be so tiny. "Bizzy said she was big, but she is really _not_ big."

"You were small like that, too, you know."

"No, I don't think so. Not this small," he insists. He pauses to think for a moment and then looks up hopefully. "Do you think she likes me?"

He really hopes she does because he sure likes her.

"Of course she does. You're her big brother," Margaret assures him, freeing up a hand to ruffle his sandy-blond hair. "Here. Try letting her grab your finger."

Cautiously, he extends his index finger, and as soon as he presses it into the baby's palm, her little fingers close around it. He gasps in excitement, "She's holding it!"

"See? She loves you," Margaret confirms, kissing the crown of his head. "You are very important to her, Archie. She is going to need you to watch out for her and set a good example because she's going to want to be just like you."

He nods slowly. It seems hard to believe that he could really be that important to anyone, that anyone would want to be like little four year-old him, but he wants to do the best he can with this new responsibility. He wants to take care of her and show her everything he knows about the world.

"Would you like to hold her?"

His eyes widen in surprise. "Can I?"

"Yes, but you have to be _very _gentle. She's very small, so I'm going to help you," she tells him. "Now, see how my arms are? Can you put your arms like that?" He nods and folds his arms in his lap to mirror Margaret, who looks at him with approval. "Good. Now, she's too little to hold her head up on her own, so be careful of her neck and sit very still, okay?"

He holds his breath in excited anticipation, and slowly, the baby is transferred into his waiting arms, causing his face to break out in a proud grin. He is holding his little sister, and he feels very grown up.

She is a little heavier than he anticipated but still very tiny. Her body is warm, and she wiggles at first in his arms. "It's okay," he tells the baby softly. "I'm your brother."

He studies her for a while once she settles in, looking over the white frilly dress that she is wearing—the one he helped Margaret pick out at a store yesterday while his parents were away at the hospital—and her matching lace-trimmed socks. Her hair smells nice, and when he delicately kisses her head, he finds that the red fuzz on top is even softer than he imagined.

"How do you say her name again?" He asks, looking back up after a few minutes. Everyone keeps calling her "the baby," and when his mother briefly introduced them, he was too caught up in the moment to remember.

"Addison," Margaret replies, clearly enunciating each syllable. "You can probably call her Addie, though. That's easier to say."

He smiles and tries to think of what to say to Addison first. There is so much he wants to tell her, but with all the fuss over her appearance and gender, he feels like she needs to be reassured that she is just fine the way she is.

So he decides to start with that.

"Hi, Addie," he addresses her thoughtfully, giving his baby sister the closest thing to a hug he can manage with her situated somewhat awkwardly in his arms. Smiling, he turns his head to one side so that his cheek just barely skims the top of her head. He then gives her another kiss and whispers to her comfortingly, "I think you're pretty."

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**A/N: **I'm a little stuck on _Expand, Contract_, but parts of this have been sitting in my hard drive forever, so I decided to make something of it. For now, this is a one-shot, but it may turn into a little series of vignettes about Archer and Addison growing up because I really wish we knew more about their childhood and could have seen more of their relationship. Let me know what you think :) Thanks for reading!


	2. Afraid of the Dark

**Disclaimer:** All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

**A/N: **_Inspired by Addison's revelation last week about her father's many affairs with household employees._

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**Afraid of the Dark**

Their bedrooms are right next to each other and share a wall, which works out quite conveniently for Addison. On nights where she has nightmares and is too afraid to fall back to sleep or leave her bed, she can reach up and knock on the wall until Archer wakes up and knocks back to signal that he will be right over.

He is good to her, and she adores him. He is brave enough to check under her bed for monsters, gives the best hugs, tells the best jokes, helps her reach things on high shelves, and makes her feel special. She misses him during the day when he is at school, and every afternoon, she awaits his return so that he can tell her about his adventures in third grade while they eat a snack.

This past afternoon was different, though.

Usually, Margaret wakes her up from her nap just before Archer arrives home, but today, Addison woke to the sound of her mother yelling in one of the angriest voices she had ever heard. Her parents argue a lot, but this was different. It was worse. When she heard a glass shatter, she slid all the way under the covers and tried to block out the sound with one of her pillows, staying that way until long after the commotion stopped, and by the time she emerged from her room, Archer was already home and eating cheese cubes and apple slices alone at the kitchen table, Margaret nowhere in sight.

That evening at dinner, their mother emotionlessly informed them that Margaret would no longer be living with them and would not be coming back. She gave no explanation, and even though they were heartbroken since Margaret had been their primary nanny since Archer was a baby, the siblings knew better than to ask questions.

Now, Addison finds herself buried under her blankets once again, but this time, it is dark. This time, it is silent. This time, she is nearly in tears because her mother didn't bother to flip the switch on her nightlight.

Like most four year-olds, Addison is terrified of the dark. She is trying so hard to just be a big girl and go to sleep, but it has already been a rough night. Without her nanny, Addison's nighttime routine was completely off—Bizzy doesn't know how to do anything that Margaret did. While Margaret would gently help Addison comb through her wet hair after her bath, Bizzy just carelessly pulled through the tangles as Addison tried not to wince while her eyes watered in discomfort. Later, when it was bedtime, Bizzy simply waited in the doorway until her daughter had settled herself into bed before turning the light off and closing the door, a far cry from the glass of water, story, and hug that Addison was used to getting before going to sleep.

Initially, she couldn't see anything at all in the pitch-blackness, which was frightening enough, but as her eyes began to adjust to the very slight moonlight peeking in through the curtains, things that once looked perfectly innocent in the daylight suddenly looked sinister. Before long, she was hiding underneath her covers in the very center of her bed, curled up in the tightest ball possible while clutching her stuffed bunny.

It's getting unbearably hot, though. Flannel winter pajamas and three layers of bedding are causing her to feel sweaty and uncomfortable, but pushing her thick comforter off would make her feel even more vulnerable to whatever might be lurking in the dark. She doesn't know what to do with herself, and she is beginning to grow more and more upset when she suddenly remembers that she has someone who can save her.

Finally, after sitting in the dark for what felt like hours (but was really only ten minutes), she crawls back up towards the headboard and cautiously reaches an arm out from under her comforter to knock on the wall behind her.

The first few knocks are quick, but when Archer doesn't immediately knock back, Addison begins frantically tapping on the wall until the door to her room opens.

At first, she's afraid that it might be her mother or father here to tell her to stop making noise, so she freezes with her knuckles against the wall and holds perfectly still.

"Sorry, I didn't knock back. I was getting a glass of water, so I didn't hear you," she hears Archer whisper from the doorway, which gives her the courage to poke her head out from under the covers, cool air hitting her flushed face.

"Awchie," she whimpers, her Rs and Ls coming out as Ws. "Help!"

"What's wrong?" He asks, leaving the door open a crack as he steps inside with his glass of water in one hand.

"It's dawk."

"Did Bizzy forget to turn your nightlight on?"

"Uh-huh."

"Here," he says, walking over to her bookshelf and flipping the switch on the nightlight that sits on the third shelf, illuminating the room with a dim yellow light and causing Addison's tense muscles to relax as she exhales in relief.

"Fank you," she sniffles, sitting up fully and rubbing her eyes.

"You're welcome," he tells her as he approaches her bed, setting his glass on her nightstand. "Are you okay?"

She shakes her head. Archer can't fix the other thing that is bothering her. "I want Mawgwet," she murmurs sadly as her eyes flood with tears and her lower lip quivers.

"She's not here, Addie," he reminds her gently while climbing up to sit next to her. Addison's queen-sized four-poster bed is far too high and large for a four year-old. She is dwarfed by a large sea of pillows and blankets, and even eight year-old Archer needs a step stool to climb up.

"Where'd she go?"

"I don't know, but she isn't coming back. Bizzy told us that after dinner, remember?"

She remembers, of course; she just wishes that she had somehow misunderstood. It doesn't make sense that the woman who had taken care of her since the day she came home from the hospital could possibly be gone forever without so much as a goodbye. Her whole world has been turned upside-down. She feels lost and overwhelmed, and she just wants everything to be the same again.

"B-but I want her," she stutters as tears spill down her cheeks. "Bizzy does not know h-how to tuck me in. She did not turn on my nightwight, and I-I-I did not get a stowee or a gwass of water or a h-hug."

"Hey, I can do all that," he assures her with a steady hand on her back. "Your light is on now, and I can give you a hug and read you a story and you can have some of my water."

She shakes her head adamantly through her tears, which are now streaking her face. "No."

He scoots closer and wraps an arm around her shoulders. "It'll be okay, Addie. I promise."

"No, no, no," she sobs loudly, shaking as she hyperventilates. "I-I-I want… I want—"

"Addison, stop it! They're right down the hall, and if they hear you, we'll both get in trouble," he warns harshly, causing her to bury her face into his shoulder and cry harder. "Shh… come on. Stop. Please don't cry, Addie," he soothes as he rubs her back. When she finally calms enough to sit up on her own again, he reaches over to grab his water and places it into her shaking hands. "Here, take a sip. Just don't spill it."

She drinks gratefully, and gradually, her tears cease as her breathing returns to normal.

"Why did she go away?" Addison asks after a few minutes. "Did we do something bad?"

He shakes is head.

"It's not our fault," Archer insists. He motions for her to lie down, and when she does, he lovingly pulls the sheet up to her chin and tucks it around her sides before draping the blanket over her—just how she likes it. "I think she did something that made Bizzy really mad, though. I just don't know what it was."

"It was prowwy just uh assident," she offers.

"Maybe, but she's still not coming back."

"'s not fair." It is difficult to understand her due to her now-stuffy nose and her cheek pressed into the pillow.

"I know. It isn't," he agrees, grief now evident in his voice as well. "I'm sad too, Addie. I'm gonna miss her a lot."

She nods and then sniffles. "Awchie?"

"Uh-huh?"

"Can you stay here tonight?"

Archer knows that his sister has the tendency to be a blanket hog who kicks in her sleep and sometimes still wets the bed, but he just can't say no when she's this upset. Besides, he's pretty shaken up, too, and could also use having someone close by.

"Yeah. I guess so," he replies. "Move over."

"Fank you."

"You have to go to sleep, though, okay?"

"Uh-huh," she agrees drowsily, reaching out to for him.

"It'll be okay. I promise." He takes her little hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. "Just try to sleep."

She feels so safe when he is next to her, and within minutes, she is asleep.

"Night, Addie. I love you."

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**A/N**: _So. Thank you guys so much for all the nice feedback on the first part! I guess this is turning into something. __I don't think this one flows quite as well as the last, but let me know what you think :)_


	3. Skinned Knees

**Disclaimer:** All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

* * *

**Skinned Knees**

"But I want _that _one," seven year-old Addison pouts as she points to a shiny green boys' mountain bike. It has traction tires, handle brakes, a 12-speed gear shift, no training wheels, and, most importantly, it is exactly the same model as the one her brother received for his eleventh birthday three weeks ago.

"No, Addison," her mother sighs, shaking her head in annoyance. "Now, look at this nice pink one over here. It has—"

"But Archie has _this _one, and it's not fair!" The little girl interrupts loudly. Accustomed to getting everything she wants, she doesn't understand why her mother is being so unreasonable.

"You know that I do not tolerate whining, Addison. I told you, no. Archer is older than you, and besides that, bicycles like those are not ladylike."

"But I'm _not_ a lady," she insists adamantly. "I'm seven."

"I will buy you a nice, _feminine_ bicycle with training wheels. You can pick out anything you want to go with it—a bell, streamers, stickers, a basket, _anything_—but you are absolutely _not_ getting one like your brother's."

"But it's not fair!" She nearly shouts, bouncing up and down in frustration and causing other shoppers to stop and turn their heads. "I want that one!"

"Addison Adrienne Forbes Montgomery, you are making a scene, and if I hear you say that one more time, you will not be getting anything," Bizzy hisses under her breath.

"Fine," she says resolutely, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't _want_ anything."

Furious, Bizzy grabs her stubborn daughter by the shoulder and forcefully steers her out towards the parking lot where their driver is waiting.

Addison's disappointment is short-lived, though—all it takes is one complaint to her father, and by the end of the week, against her mother's wishes, she has a bike that matches her brother's.

xx

A month later, they are on vacation at their summer house in Martha's Vineyard when Archer offers to let his sister tag along on a trip into town to meet a couple of friends for ice cream. She has only been riding on two wheels for a week and is still pretty wobbly when she pedals, but he knows that inviting her to come with will make her feel special. And it does—her face lights up with a grin, and she bounces with excitement when he tells her that she can accompany him. Sometimes it's not always cool anymore to have a little sister who wants to do everything that he does, but more often than not, he still loves being able to make her happy.

When they leave the house, he has Addison ride in front of him. That way, he can keep an eye on her and make sure she is safe, while also not having to worry about whether she can keep up. She pedals more slowly than he would like and is a little shaky at first, but at about half of a mile into their journey, he notices that she is looking more confident, sitting up straighter and shifting her weight into turns like a pro. He's proud of her. The bike is a little too big for a seven year-old, but she is managing just fine.

Until she swerves to avoid a large stick on the path and seemingly forgets how to use her handle brake. When she finally remembers, it is too late, and Archer watches as inertia causes his little sister to fly over her handle bars, landing hands-first (and then face-second) on the dirt and gravel.

"Addie!" He yells frantically as he jumps off his bike before even coming to a stop and runs to where Addison is sobbing just a few yards away.

"Archie!" She cries as he kneels down beside her. "Owwwwieeeee!"

"It's okay, Add," he murmurs comfortingly as he helps her to sit up against him. "Shh… I know it hurts."

"Owwww!"

As he begins to survey her injuries, it is immediately clear that she is in a lot of pain and has every reason to be upset. Her knees are both badly scraped—as are her nose, right cheek, chin, and forehead—and her bottom lip is split open from biting halfway through it. There is also dirt mixed in with the blood, and when she suddenly coughs and spits out a previously-wiggly front tooth that had been refusing to come out, her hands fly to her mouth, and she starts to cry harder.

"My toof!" She exclaims, horrified, through her fingers that are now examining the new hole in her gums. "My mowf is bleeding!"

Truthfully, all of the blood is _really_ freaking him out, and he is kind of panicking. He is afraid for her. They're too far from home to just leave her to go get help, but he doesn't know what else to do.

"Addie, it's okay. You're going to be okay. Just try to calm down."

"I c-can't. I-it... it hurts," she tells him tearfully while wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. "It hurts, and I wanna go home."

"I know. I'm going to ride home really quick and—"

"NO!" She shouts, grabbing onto his arm in fear and beginning to hyperventilate. "No, no, no! Y-you can't leave me! Don't!"

She starts coughing again because she's so upset, and he's knows that if she doesn't stop, she will probably make herself sick.

"Okay, okay, okay," he assures her gently. "We can, uh… um…"

He has no idea how he is going to get her home all by himself.

"Can you stand up?"

"Uh-uh."

"Can you try?"

"Awnagohome," she sobs almost incoherently into his shirt. "Awnagohome."

"I know, Addie. Please, can you _try _to stand up?"

He feels her shake her head, causing the blood on her face to seep through onto his own skin. It's obvious that she can't of do much of anything now, and it's breaking his heart because he feels so helpless. He wants to take away all of this pain, but he just can't.

Suddenly, though, he has an idea.

"Put your arms around my neck," he instructs her as he carefully moves so that she is sitting behind him with her legs around his waist. "Come on, you're going to be okay. I'm going to piggy-back you, and we're going to go home."

He isn't sure if he is even capable of carrying Addison for more than a couple minutes—he is short for his age, and she is tall for hers—but there doesn't seem to be any other choice.

"But..." She starts out, motioning towards her precious bike that is lying on its side in some bushes.

"We can send someone to get them both later."

"'Kay," she sniffles as she links her scraped hands around his neck and shoulders.

And with strength he didn't know he possessed, Archer manages to lift them both up and start walking back down the path—but not before slipping Addison's lost tooth into his pocket; after all, she still believes in the Tooth Fairy.

xx

"We're almost there," her brother says after what feels like hours of being carried on his back. She's sore all over, the sun is so hot, and she is so exhausted from crying that she has been struggling to keep her eyes open. "You're going to be fine."

She has never been so happy to see their house.

"Archie! What happened?" Bizzy calls from the back patio as she sees them approaching. She stands up from the table where she was entertaining a group of friends with afternoon cocktails and walks a few steps to get a closer (but not too much closer) look. "Is she alright?"

Addison ducks her head further into the space between Archer's neck and shoulder and immediately starts to worry—her mother is going to be so disappointed in her for ruining her face and clothes.

"She fell off her bike," he replies, out of breath.

"I told her 'no,' about that bicycle a thousand times, but she wouldn't hear it," she hears Bizzy explain to the other women. "So she went crying to her father, and he bought the thing for her in a heartbeat. Now, look what happened."

"Archie, she's gonna be so mad at me," she whimpers quietly.

"Don't worry about it. She'll call Alice out to help us, and once we're inside, she'll forget everything."

Addison hopes he's right.

"Put her down," their mother instructs Archer when they reach the bottom of the steps leading up to the patio. "She can walk the rest of the way."

"I don't know. She got really hurt, Bizzy."

"She's a big girl, Archer," she sighs. "Addison, come up here and let me see what you've done."

"Sorry," Archer murmurs, slowly setting her on her feet.

When her legs straighten out, though, the faint scabs that have just started forming on her knees crack and start bleeding again. It hurts, but she doesn't want to cry in front of her mother and further disappoint her, so she bravely climbs the six stairs up to where Bizzy is standing with her arms crossed.

"Oh, god, _Addison_. Your face!" She gasps. "Oh, your clothes are ruined, and my god, your _face_."

Addison's eyes start to tear up, and her shoulders slump forward in shame and embarrassment as her mother and her mother's friend stare at her. She's sorry. She really is. And everything just _hurts_. "I'm sorry."

"Addison, that was a new outfit. What are we going to do with you?"

"I'll take her inside," Archer pipes up.

"That would be lovely. Thank you, dear," she says sweetly before turning to yell for their nanny. "ALICE!"

When they get in the house, Archer stays while her injuries are being cleaned and bandaged, allowing her to squeeze his hand when the disinfectant burns and comforting her as best he can with words of encouragement. Once everything is over, he smiles and gives her a hug, careful not to put any pressure on her cuts and bruises.

"Oh, hey—I saved your tooth," he remembers before retrieving it from his pocket. "Here. Now you can put it under your pillow. See, Add? I told you that you'd be okay."

And she is. He always seems to make sure of that.

She doesn't know what she would do if she didn't have such a brave big brother to carry her home.

* * *

**A/N: **Not sure that this one flows quite as well as the others since it's so dialogue-heavy, but it's been several weeks since I've done one of these, and I wanted to put something up. So. Thanks for reading and for all the nice comments on the first two chapters! I'm a little stuck on _Expand, Contract_, so I'm working on a fourth chapter for this right now where they are teenagers (Addison learning to drive and Archer freaking out from the passenger seat.. we've all been there. haha). Anyway. Hopefully I'll have that up faster than it took me with this one.


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